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Give report!

Spartacus' cavalry has broken our western flank.

That fucking savage.

Give signal to re-form to the south.

Kill him!

We must go!

Spartacus!

The Romans have sounded retreat.

We have won the day.

We have won nothing.

Cossinius and Furius again slip from grasp.

The same cannot be said

for many that stood with them.

The field is thick with the dead.

Deserved fate.

For all who would see us again to shackle and whip.

Another standard lost?

It is a grave wound inflicted upon the Republic, Cossinius.

A deeper one would have been suffered,

had we not withdrawn from battle.

It confounds the fucking senses.

How could a handful of errant slaves continue to vex us?

I fear their numbers have been sorely underestimated

within the Senate.

Spartacus' mongrel horde has swelled

with each passing victory,

since Glaber's defeat at Vesuvius.

They added thousands to rank

liberating the mines of Lucania.

Slaves across the Republic,

humble and grateful to their masters

for so many years, have broken to treachery

in the wake of ever expanding legend of Spartacus.

Untold numbers joined his cause

after Scrofa fell to him on the banks of the Calor.

His standards and fasces falling to the enemy,

as the man himself.

Such chaos and death at the hands

of a fucking slave.

You will discover this fucking slave

at the very gates of Rome itself,

if reinforcements are not dispatched.

Lucullus battles Mithridates near the Black Sea.

Antonius sails against the pirates plaguing Crete.

Pompey yet struggles with the renegade.

Sertorius in Espainia.

The resources of the Senate

are drained by these conflicts.

We have not the men nor the coin to procure them.

There is one among us who could fund endeavor

from his own purse.

And never feel sting of its cost.

I had hoped to avoid involving the man.

We would not be beholden to him any more than you, Metellus.

Produce alternative, and we shall seize upon it.

Very well.

I shall return to Rome and entreat Crassus

to aid in crushing Spartacus and his rebellion.

And in the act, attempt to redress grievous injury

inflicted upon the honor of the Republic.

The field has been stripped of weapons and horses.

The Romans' loss again becomes our bounty.

What of Gannicus?

I would have his report as well.

You well know the man.

He favors celebration after a victory.

Often for many days.

A thing I would gladly give blessing.

After Cossinius and Furius fall from concern.

They have proven themselves no fools.

And may yet attempt bold maneuver.

Double our sentries in surrounding hills.

I would not be caught unaware.

You give those shits credit beyond due.

Underestimating your opponent is a Roman trait, Agron.

Do not fall prey to it.

Cossinius and Furius come to the end of their days.

With each passing sun, hundreds of slaves

break bond to join our cause.

Agron is not wrong in this.

Soon we shall have the advantage of numbers.

Gauge prowess of all that have joined us,

and see them readied.

I would strike again at nearest opportunity,

and give further warning to the fools in Rome

seeking to grind us beneath heel.

Every day for months he wrestles with the man,

groans and grunts filling ear.

Your father is a dedicated student.

And I forced to stand witness to the lessons,

while more pressing matters fall to ill attention.

Apologies, Dominus.

I lose myself in the heat of contest.

Less than a scratch.

Worse deserved for not anticipating blow.

You are quick of study.

Yet you open flank to injury

when perceived advantage is pressed.

The ruin of many a man within the Senate.

Let us return to lesson after evening meal is broken.

Dominus.

The rumors prove true, Crassus.

You take instruction from a slave.

Hilarus stood a champion of the arena for many years.

I paid his lanista more coin than you'll ever see

in your life to purchase the man,

and impart what he's learned of the games.

And of the men who have drawn blood upon the sands.

Gladiators.

You strike upon very subject of my visit.

If we may break word in private?

Oh, Tiberius is well trained in the ways of men.

I would expose him to those of the Senate as well.

To the matter,

we've have suffered unexpected complications

in our conflict with the rebel Spartacus.

Cossinius and Furius have fallen?

They live, but find themselves

in need of reinforcement.

An expensive thing to acquire,

in these troubled times.

Their asses must be sore from the ramming

Spartacus has given, to come begging to me.

No one is begging.

They are asking assistance

from a loyal member of the Senate.

How much assistance?

Ten thousand men.

It would take considerable coin and effort

to raise such a force.

And in return you will be offered a command.

Under Cossinius and Furius, of course.

An offer better received from the men themselves.

They've withdrawn to a villa on the outskirts

of Nuceria, within short ride

of what remains of their legion to the north.

Spartacus continues to gather force

in the valley of Campania.

You know I would not have come

if situation did not demand of it.

No. You would not.

Their terms are agreeable.

I will dispatch message to them immediately.

Best I send my own men,

to ensure it arrives at intended destination.

Whatever your will.

To voice truth of it, I had expected you to extort

inflated title at the very least,

as Pompey did to take his charge against Sertorius.

My interest lies only in title and honor earned.

Apologies for ever suspecting less.

You would agree to serve beneath Cossinius and Furius,

absent true command?

It would appear so.

I have heard how you berate their names,

how foolish and vain you think them and Senator Metellus.

Father -- The time for words has ended.

Spartacus must fall,

and I shall set upon what path I must

to see day hastened.

For the glory of Rome.

I saw it with my own fucking eyes!

In the heat of battle, blood and brains thick to the knee.

And Gannicus, in the middle of it all!

Strips to his fucking cock,

bellowing to the Romans to kneel before him

and receive golden tribute!

In my defense, I had taken much wine that day,

not expecting Spartacus to turn and attack Scrofa.

There is more wine?

My friends, are of thirst.

Your woman brings gifts!

Gifts, yes.

Not for you.

Out.

Out.

It is my fucking tent.

Out.

We shall find another.

Hopefully as well stocked.

Is it imagining, or do we rise to heights

unknown in wake of battle?

As all men do, when bathed in blood and victory.

When Rome falls, I fear we shall

split the heavens in celebration.

And fuck Jupiter

as he plummets to the earth.

Oh, you believe you fuck as a god now?

I boast but upon evidence given.

Couple proud words with wine,

and see them better received.

You afforded yourself well upon the field this day.

You stand surprised?

I have always believed in you, Nasir.

Even when you were yet a contrary

little Syrian slave boy.

My eyes were yet shrouded.

I am forever in Spartacus' debt, for parting veil.

A debt shared equally by all.

One we shall repay with Roman lives.

You summoned me?

I would not have had to.

If you had reported in with Crixus

and Agron days ago.

My attentions were called by pressing matters.

Of women and drink?

Are there any more so?

Days can not pass after battle without your report.

We fought.

We won.

Does that cover needed ground?

Hmm.

You have proven valuable asset

against the Romans.

Yet I would have you stand more

than just another sword.

Take rightful place beside Crixus and myself,

as a leader.

I will give life to your cause,

in honor of Oenomaus.

I may even believe in it myself upon a day.

But I am no leader, nor seek to be one.

There are many that already look to you as such.

A greater number still would follow you in battle.

You mean die for me?

For the cause.

I would not be set above my brothers,

and thought greater than I am.

As many begin to think of you.

I do not wish it.

Yet it is so.

They begin to speak of you as a god.

And may react poorly when you prove yourself mortal.

Victory against the Romans is my only concern.

And how is it defined?

When Cossinius and Furius

struck from this world?

You know that will not be the end of it.

Rome will send more and more in their wake.

Then they too shall fall.

And when we have laid waste to the mighty Republic?

What will you turn your wrath upon then hmmm?

The men that set you on this path,

the men that took your wife from you.

They are gone from this world. Their wives too,

in past news of Lucretia and Ilithyia's fall.

A thousand lives would not equal Sura's.

I dared to love a woman once.

When I was a slave to Batiatus.

She yet draws breath?

I would give the world to have it so.

A fate too common, for men such as us.

I had my vengeance, as you did.

And stood as empty.

Until Oenomaus forgave betrayal.

Oenomaus?

It was his wife I lost heart to.

Even when freedom was gained,

shackles

of what I had done to those I loved remained.

With final breath, Oenomaus struck chains

that bound me.

There is no one I hold to heart, left

to break such balming words.

Absent such, a man must speak them to himself.

Words also denied me.

You seek them in the voice of thousands, clamoring for blood?

I could not save my wife.

And I can fight to see a day

when no innocent life is so easily disregarded.

A day when the Romans and their cruelty

are but distant memory.

May you find peace in its arrival, brother.

Let us share wine and women,

and set aside such heavy fucking thoughts.

The offer is much appreciated.

Then I will drink and fuck in your name.

Fight when called upon.

The very steps to the Roman Senate

if that is where your madness leads.

Raise offer to 350 denarii

and two iugera of land.

We must elevate numbers quickly.

I will dispatch Sabinus and see it done.

I thought you to bed.

Tiberius has filled his ears with talk of war.

The battle rages in his head, vanquishing slumber.

Is it true?

You ride with an army against Spartacus?

Yes to defend the Republic,

as is the duty of all Romans.

I'm a Roman. I will go with you.

Oh, would that you were of an age,

to stand by your father's side.

Now for your bed, Publius,

and dream of future laurels.

Yes, father.

He would follow you to the shores

of the afterlife, if so commanded.

As would Tiberius.

He will hold place amongst my troops when they march.

A place?

He deserves position of note,

worthy of the name he bears.

He does not yet hold the years

for the title of Tribune.

Coin and persuasion would see

such rules set aside--

He has not earned it.

Tiberius has shown great promise as a soldier.

Yet he falls from target in strategy and discerning mind.

Then lend instruction.

My lessons never cease.

It is for him to apply them.

Your work carries into night?

And threatens break of dawn.

I shall see food and wine brought.

Kore shall tend to my needs.

Of course.

Your bed awaits.

If you find want of it.

It is an honor long deserved, to be given command.

One he finds beneath Cossinius and Furius.

I have never known your father

to remain beneath anyone for length of time.

Ah, perhaps the years have tempered desire

for laurels and adulation of the crowds.

And what of your desires?

Apollo himself would be set ablaze by them.

I shall remember not to stand too near,

for fear of melted wings.

I would not have you from my side in this, Sabinus.

The gods themselves could not wrest me from it.

I will see offer raised and numbers elevated.

Gratitude.

I recall a time when you and Sabinus were but children,

playing at war with wooden sticks.

Such games are of the past.

A thing yet proven to your father.

Do not give him cause to further doubt you.

Any shall be swept from thought,

when I stand awash in the blood of our enemies.

Watch your left!

Watch for the swing!

Raise fucking guard!

Your boy grows fiercer by the day.

Soon even I shall fear to call him little man.

At least now I will be able to understand you when you yield,

you simple shit.

Spartacus...

Next man! Take position!

Let's go! Let's go!

Begin! Come on!

We test the last of those that have joined us.

How do you find them?

Enthusiastic.

Yet short of skill.

Many among us once stood as such.

These will soon prove as worthy.

Perhaps not all.

Next man!

Do not speak of this.

Go.

Diotimos?

If I were?

Inside.

Quickly.

I can spare no more than this,

so do not fucking ask.

Gratitude, gratitude.

You have killed a horse?

Lower fucking voice.

I would not follow the animal

in crush news of meat would bring.

Who gave permission?

A man atop a horse in battle is valued ten

upon foot.

He was gravely wounded against the Romans.

I would have sought permission

from the great man upon the hill,

but King Spartacus is far too busy waging war

to bother with such low concerns.

What moves you to such thoughts?

Open fucking eyes you have your answer.

I begin to question turning from the calm of the ocean breeze

and the safety of my city's walls.

You were a free man, then?

Far removed.

I toiled beneath the heel of a most unpleasant shit

in Sinuessa en Valle.

Yet he at least provided for fucking needs.

Did you expect freedom to come absent cost?

No.

Yet absent fucking plan to be clothed or fed

we must take matters into our own hands.

Or risk early grave waiting for the Bringer

of Fucking Rain to bless us with much needed shower.

Weather will soon turn cold,

and with it-- Spartacus!

A clutch of Romans ride from the north,

attempting to slip past our position.

You are Spartacus?

Apologies, I-I did -- Still tongue.

You may not always have full belly or warm cloak,

but while I draw breath you have freedom

to speak your heart.

Even against the great man upon the hill.

Fuck the gods.

You there!

What is your purpose so near rebel encampment?

Who else is with you?

Find fucking tongue.

Who is with you?

Death.

Rahh!

We must follow.

No. A spear. Quickly.

I stand your equal with sword.

Yet you have me by fucking spear.

Spartacus.

This one carried a message.

What does it say?

Ten thousand?

Led by Marcus Crassus Himself.

Cossinius and Furius will see their numbers swell,

stripping advantage.

We could lay trap. Here, upon the Appian Way.

Catch them by surprise before they have chance

to join their brothers.

That would place us between.

Crassus advancing from the north

and Cossinius and Furius in the south.

We do not have the men to face armies on both fronts.

We must strike Cossinius and Furius

before odds tip to imbalance.

We have inflicted nagging wound.

Yet for months we have failed to shatter resolve of their men.

Perhaps the heads of their commanders

carried before us would so sway them.

Trophies proven difficult to win.

On the field of battle, yes.

By what is written here, message was not directed

to where their troops lie.

It speaks of hope that word finds them safe

within the villa.

They have gone to ground?

Warm bath and the comfort of women,

if my days in Rome are of worth.

Where is this villa?

It does not say.

Then we return to beginning.

We intercepted Crassus' men here, riding southeast.

Cossinius and Furius would seek to stay

within reasonable distance of their men.

Would place their villa

somewhere within this region.

How do we divine which is theirs?

They are no fools, as you have said.

We will know location by placement of sentries.

And sizable force they no doubt have

without villa to lend protection.

Then we descend upon them with every sword we have.

No.

We risk discovery moving against the villa with large numbers.

Cossinius and Furius would be alerted,

and have chance to slip again from grasp.

Yet a few men might penetrate defense unnoticed...

A few against many.

Much as the old days.

Gannicus, Crixus-- I would have you at my side.

I am to stand idle, with arm up fucking ass?

You are to lead in my absence.

Gather every man and woman that can hold weapon.

Towards what purpose?

One of vital importance, if we are to gain victory.

It is plan born of fevered mind.

As often springs from his brow.

Yet if we can see it-- If.

A word forever casting shadow.

You burn brightly enough to light darkest night.

I voice concern and you offer flattery.

I offer truth.

Your fire blazes to rival the fucking sun.

These hands, once trembled with broken memory,

now stand as strong as the steel they wield.

Because of you.

Because your heart is strong.

And your will undeniable force,

as I have often discovered.

I would not be from your side.

Nor I yours,

but this night it must be so.

Stay near to Agron,

and follow command.

Kill many Romans.

And return to my arms

with their blood

hot upon you.

The bodies of the dead

be all that greet Crassus and his army.

Sword.

There is yet much to be done,

if we are to move against Spartacus.

Hmmm, much.

Yet you waste hour sparring with a common slave.

Was Spartacus not also once thought of as such?

Would you dismiss him so casually as well?

No. Yet for all his victories

Spartacus is still a slave.

He's a man.

No better or worse than any sharing title.

You would place him upon equal footing with a Roman?

In some regards, he's proven to stand even higher.

Psst.

You believe wealth and position grant you

advantage over those beneath you?

I believe we tower above a slave in all things,

no matter what name he bears.

Then couple words with actions,

and prove belief.

Well, you've been well trained

in the Roman ways of combat.

Surely you can best a common slave.

Apologies, Dominus. I did not mean to...

You did but teach lesson sorely needed.

As Spartacus schools those who consider themselves gods,

perched far above lesser men.

And laughs as they tumble from the heavens.

There are too many.

Even for us.

Then let us pause moment.

And see numbers thinned.

The die has been cast.

We cannot reverse throw.

There has been no word from Metellus.

He takes overly long.

And with what haste could we expect

reply from Longinus for aid?

Cisalpine Gaul lays twice distance than Rome.

At least consider dispatching message--

Praetor.

The rebel army gathers near our legions in the north.

Give Mummius orders for first

and second cohorts to move to support them.

To fuck with Crassus.

We shall rejoin our men and take Spartacus ourselves.

Fetch armor and sword! Quickly!

Agron's advance on position

to the north draws them away.

Not all.

The gods have heard my prayers.

There is no boast in easy victory.

Stay to the shadows.

And let us end this.

He speaks to me as he would a child.

Then prove him wrong, and do not pout as one.

An army not yet raised to maturity.

Preparation for long march and campaign ignored.

All in favor of playing with this fucking brute.

I do not understand his mind.

Set aside wounded pride and think as he would.

And see shrouded mystery parted.

Swiftly. Before they are discovered from their post.

We do not know how many await inside.

Let us pray they are not too few.

I am encircled by mad fucks.

And begin to count myself as one.

The gods favor us.

Spartacus holds no belief in them.

I pray this night they prove me wrong.

Dominus, it takes time to master technique.

I well know it can swell frustration.

My frustrations lie not with myself.

Dominus? If I have done something to offend...

The only offense lies in what you do not do.

You hold back in your assault.

Do you think I'm not worthy of it?

As the Senate believes me unworthy of a true command?

No, Dominus.

None stand more worthy of respect than you.

Then see it given.

Come at me.

As you would an opponent in the arena,

absent thought of mercy.

Father--

We all have lessons that must learned.

I would have this my final test.

And in its completion, knowledge that I am readied

to face those trained in your arts upon field of battle.

You ask me to kill you.

I command you to try.

Then you command my death.

If you're victorious, it will be at the cost of my life.

If you fall to my sword, my life is equally forfeit.

Tiberius. Bear witness.

If Hilarus strikes me down

he's to be rewarded with his freedom

and ten thousand denarii.

You cannot be serious.

A man's true enemy is doubt.

A thing I would not carry into battle

against Spartacus.

Make choice.

Or fall where you stand.

Your will, Dominus.

My hands.

First and second garrison ride to join the legion.

Spartacus does not hold the numbers

for decisive victory.

What is his mind in such attack?

Let us see his skull split open,

and read his fucking thoughts upon the ground--

Spartacus.

Stay together.

You must stop this.

He has given command.

It must be obeyed.

Come on!

We must see you to safety.

I will not fucking turn from him again.

Seize reason. We will return with more men

and see Spartacus to his fate.

Don't let them away!

Go!

You were waiting...

for me to think you'd made misstep I warned you of...

Knowledge and patience.

The only counter to greater skill.

You have been well schooled.

Know that your service

will not pass unremembered.

The coin I promised had you bested me

shall be set towards monument

to the storied gladiator Hilarus.

It has been the greatest of honors

to have served you, Dominus.

The honor was mine.

Fucking savages have blocked us from egress.

Take shelter here.

I will not fall trapped as fucking animal.

Your cause is lost.

The mistake is mine.

In not foreseeing you would attack in the night,

as the thieves and cutthroats you prove.

A mistake you shall not make again.

Name terms of surrender,

and let us be done with this.

There are none I would trust a Roman to honor.

Gather their heads.

A most ill-fated turn.

And yet news of calamity

does not end with their deaths.

Absent proper command,

I fear Cossinius and Furius' men

will soon be scattered to the winds.

Yes it was most unfortunate

their leaders fell before my arrival.

Even more unfortunate that your messenger appears

to have taken routes that passed

so near the rebel encampment.

Give plain voice.

If you're of a mind.

Let us move from clouded past

and turn eye towards pressing future.

Sole command and charge to bring Spartacus

to deserved end is now yours.

Along with title of Imperator, if you so wish it.

I serve the glory of Rome.

As do we all.

You planned this.

From the moment Metellus offered command

under Cossinius and Furius.

The House of Crassus bows to no one.

How did you know Spartacus

would make attempt on their lives,

instead of fleeing when knowledge was gained

of your army advancing from Rome?

Because it is what I would have done.

Mummius and the last of the Romans

flee to the west.

Sight of their leaders' heads upon pike

has broken fucking spirit.

Let us give chase, and see them all to equal fate.

We have won our victory.

I would see us far from here

in advance of Crassus and his army.

The mighty Spartacus turns from unwinnable fight?

Our numbers have grown beyond wildest expectation.

Yet winter will soon be upon us.

To face hunger and cold as well as Crassus

would drag us to certain doom.

We must seek advantage of supplies and shelter.

One that can be defended if set upon,

until spring warms intent.

There is not a villa in all the lands

that could hold so many.

No, there is not.

Only a city could hold us now.

And we shall tear one from the flesh of Rome,

and salt mortal wound

with blood and death.

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